THE LOST BATTALION	163
ulace was philosophical about our arrival They accepted us
as a matter of course.
But the most interesting German in Coblentz for me at
that time was a certain Lieutenant Prinz, a dapper Little Prus-
sian officer who looked as if he had just hopped out of a band-
box, a pleasant person, courteous and anxious to please* He
spoke faultless English and, thus accomplished, had been
chosen as interpreter for the American Bridgehead Commis-
sion,
Lieutenant Prinz was the man who wrote the note to Whit-
tlesey demanding the surrender of the remnants of the "Lost
Battalion." He expressed great admiration for Whittlesey and
his heroic command. He said he hoped some day to meet the
American officer, but did not confirm the popular story of the
manner in which Whittlesey was said to have replied to his
note. It was, in part, that discrepancy which weeks later car-
ried me to Chateau Villain to check the truth about the Lost
Battalion.
The bodies of the fine American youth who died in that
ravine now rest under shimmering white crosses in the great
military cemetery at Romagne-sous-Montfaucon, while that
of their gallant commander lies in that greater burial plot,
the Atlantic ocean, Whether the disappearance of Colonel
Whittlesey from a steamer off the American Atlantic coast
several years after the war was suicide or an accident, none
will ever know.
The Ravine de Charlevaux is now clothed in handsome
green. Nature has healed and covered its wounds, while the
devilish little stream at the bottom purls on, flanked by the
softest of woodland moss.